


This Time He Brought Something Home

by FR33L0RR41N3



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bonding, Family Bonding, Healing, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Ranboo my beloved, canon-divergent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:33:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29348202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FR33L0RR41N3/pseuds/FR33L0RR41N3
Summary: Everything Tommy knows explodes with a bang and so does he. He should respawn back in Pogtopia, in his bed, but something glitches. He wakes up somewhere far more dangerous with no one to help him and no idea how to get home.//follows canon until the JD kinnie presses the button. everything after is divergent!
Relationships: Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 129





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> please don't eat me i have no clue what i'm doing
> 
> especially with the tags i am so sorry guys. how will anyone find this

For a moment, all he can remember is the pain. At first, it’s hot, searing, he’s being ripped apart by it. Then it cools down, and it feels like he’s being stretched thin. 

Distantly, he recognizes the feeling of respawning. It isn’t as abrupt of a pain, more of a strong ache that won’t dissipate until the body is fully formed again. Sometimes spawning feels quicker, especially if you set your spawn point to a safe spot. Other times, it feels like it takes a million years. 

This is one of those times. If he had a body, he would be screaming or crying, probably both. Instead, he can do nothing to relieve the feeling, he can only endure it. 

When he is finally whole again, his knees immediately buckle and he falls onto his side on the ground. He’s pretty much paralyzed with the pain, body shaking. He bites back the sobs that threaten to climb out of his throat, gritting his teeth. As the pain begins to fade into a dull ache, he becomes more aware of his surroundings. 

It’s hot here, wherever he was. He feels himself begin to sweat. He can hear what sounds like… the crackle of fire? Lava? And the ground he was on, it was brittle, like coarse dirt. Which makes no sense. Before he died… He was in L’Manberg, wasn’t he? 

What happened? He was- 

He jerked up, abruptly, eyes flying open. He was greeted with red. A whole lot of red. 

Holy shit, he realized as he stared wide-eyed at the plains of Netherrack stretched before him, he was in the Nether! What? 

He felt like his brain was moving at a snail’s pace. He couldn’t piece together what was happening. And suddenly, it all came rushing back to him. 

The 16th. Schlatt’s heart attack. Tubbo being elected president. Techno releasing the Withers. Then this big, horrendous, terrible boom, feeling his skin sear off of his body- 

Tommy shook, almost being overtaken by the vivid memories. 

Wilbur… He must have pressed the button. He had blown up his country, the very thing they had been fighting for. 

He felt tears prickle behind his eyes. 

Then what was it all for then? Wilbur had ruined everything they fought so hard for. 

Forming Pogtopia, preparing for battle, having Techno betray them, electing a new president, all for this country that he decided to _blow up anyway_. 

So what was the point? 

Tommy stared down at his trembling hands. He had died. For nothing. And he was stuck somewhere random, in the Nether, with no clue how to get home, with no clue if there was actually anything left of the palace he would call home, and with not a block or tool or weapon to his name. 

Tommy’s legs felt unsteady, but he managed to stand. 

He stared at the hellscape he was stuck in. 

What the fuck was he going to do? 

* * *

A lot of running, apparently. 

Tommy didn’t have a lot of time to sit and wallow. A group of the nomadic Piglins rounded a corner and spotted him, pulling out their crossbows and swords. 

He sprinted away, letting out a short shriek as an arrow whizzed past him. 

It seemed the piglins weren’t looking to give chase, instead shooting at him from afar. He was grateful. 

He managed to escape, before almost running straight into a ghast. 

Oh, he was so fucked. 

The thing opened its mouth and Tommy dived, rolling where he landed and using that momentum to continue running. 

Fucking hell.

* * *

He must have been on the move for hours, not getting many chances to slow down or rest. Whenever he thought he might be safe, another hostile mob popped up and he was dashing away again. 

It wasn’t like he wanted to run away like a coward, but without any armor to protect him or any weapons to attack the beasts, he was stuck with running away from them to avoid being killed. 

He was still in the Wastes, he had seen a Soul Sand biome a while ago, but had opted to avoid it for now. The sand would slow him down and he would have no way of outrunning any mobs that spawned there. 

He was getting tired, feeling his muscles protest. His body wasn’t responding to his commands as quickly as before, either. He wasn’t going to last much longer this way. 

When he had a brief moment of peace, he thought about what he could do. He still had no tools. There was no real place for shelter around. He had somehow managed to avoid taking any real damage. However, he wouldn’t survive if he just decided to sit somewhere and take a breather. 

He glanced around, seeing a mountain of Netherrack to his right. He shrugged internally, not wasting any energy to actually do so. It was probably his best bet. 

He approached the wall of Netherrack, and began to use his bare hands to dig himself a small hole in the wall. It was a 3x3 space and after he blocked up the entrance, it was dark. 

In the Overworld, he would probably have felt claustrophobic in this space, but now, Tommy felt safe. He was enclosed on all sides, there wasn’t any space for a mob to spawn inside the hole with him. 

He could tell that wide, open spaces were soon going to bother him. It meant that anything could approach him from any direction. 

He didn’t waste anymore time with thoughts. He could think in the morning… Or whenever he woke up. 

The Nether didn’t have day or night cycles, so it would be really hard to keep track of time here. 

Oh, well. 

He curled into a ball in a corner of the room, feeling more at ease when he felt the hard surface against his back. He closed his eyes wearily, drifting into an uneasy sleep. 

* * *

He had jerked awake from nightmares a few times, but forced himself to close his eyes again. He would take what time he would get. He needed to be as rested as he could possibly be, honestly. 

There was no room to falter now. He didn’t want to die in this place again. Who knew if he would respawn in the same area or if he would be transported somewhere completely different. Either way, Tommy was going to do all he could to not die. 

When he woke a third time, Tommy decided now was as good a time as any to set out again. 

He clawed a hole in his little wall, peeking out to see what awaited him. The coast seemed relatively clear of mobs. He could make out a magma cube a while away. He wasn’t bothered by it. 

He opened the wall by another block, making it large enough for him to comfortably fit out of. He peeked his head out even further, before he finally stepped out. 

He decided that he would continue to go in the direction he had been heading in before he took his break. This allowed him to hug the Netherrack wall as he walked briskly. 

He decided not to run, until he needed to. He would cover more ground by running of course, but he would waste energy that way, and possibly attract the attention of mobs. 

He steeled himself. He could do this.

* * *

Four more sleeps passed this way. 

Tommy didn’t like to call them days because he had no way of knowing if that was accurate. 

Distance in the Nether and Overworld were different, it was possible time was as well. No one had thought very much about it before, but no one he knew had elected to live full time in the Nether like was doing now. 

Who wanted to live in this hot, dangerous place? You only came here for resources. Maybe you made a highway or a little base, but that wasn’t all too common. 

So Tommy had taken to calling counting his time here in “sleeps'' or “cycles”. 

Tommy spent his days hiking, or running if the need arose, and then he would dig himself a cubby with his bare hands to sleep in. He dreamt often of the explosion and Wilbur’s crazed look that had become all too common and Techno’s deep, dark laughter. He dreamt even more often of the pleasant, soft warmth of the sun or the cool feeling of water. 

He had thought when he was in hiding, in the cold dank walls of Pogtopia, that he would never take luxuries for granted again. He was living in a literal hole in the wall. It was cold all of the time, he could hear the sounds of mobs in hidden underground caves as he tried to sleep at night. 

But Tommy was wrong. He longed now even for Pogtopia, in it’s cold impersonal walls. 

He dreamt of Tubbo. Sweet, smart, Tubbo. His best friend. His brother in all but blood. He wondered how he was doing. He wondered if he missed him. 

He wondered who was looking for him. He knew he had just been some annoying kid, but he hoped that someone cared. He hoped he wasn’t just seen as Techno and Wilbur’s annoying apprentice, bringing chaos everywhere he went. 

Tommy had no one to talk to, so this led to a lot of thinking. 

On his fifth cycle, Tommy was tired. He had slept, as well as he could, but he had not eaten since he respawned. And there would be no water in the Nether for him to drink either, as it all evaporated. 

He was reaching a point where he wondered if he would be able to go on. He was living purely off of sleep and adrenaline. Something was going to give. 

He wondered when he respawned, how long he would make it again before he succumbed to hunger. Well, he had to die first, he guessed. 

Tommy huffed, the only laugh he would allow himself now, at the morbid thought. 

He wondered if he was losing it. 

He trekked some more, squinting when he saw something in the distance. He had been wandering in the Wastes the whole time. There were no other biomes he felt safe (relatively speaking) traversing. 

It looked like…. A large fungus. 

Wait. A large fungus?! 

It was a new biome! 

The fungus was red, so it must be the Crimson Forest. That meant… That meant food! And wood! Oh, oh, oh. Tommy was saved! He was going to be fine, after all! 

He would have to avoid any Piglins while he collected wood and mushrooms from the ground, but once he was able to collect some gold ore, the Piglins wouldn’t bother him. 

Tommy felt the first smile cross his face for the first time since he spawned here. 

He was going to be okay. 

* * *

It took a bit longer than he thought to reach the new area, Tommy probably should have taken a break to rest, but he was too excited and filled with a giddy energy. 

He reached his first “tree”, and almost felt the need to hug it. 

He wasted no time getting to work, breaking the weird, flexible trunk, and glancing around every few seconds for any mobs. 

He remembered once learning from Tubbo that the “trees” in the Nether were actually fungi. Which meant that they were actually easier to be harvested with a hoe. So after making a crafting table and sticks, that was the first thing he made. 

He used the hoe until it broke, ruining several of the trees, but not caring. 

He returned to his crafting table, creating several more wooden tools. Then, he collected the table, and instead searched the ground for mushrooms. 

He found a couple of the weird Nether fungi, though he ignored those. He wasn’t eager to see if they were edible or not. If he died after he had made it this far, well, he may just give up. 

He finally found what he was looking for, a dense clump of brown mushrooms. He snacked on these as he searched some more, and - aha! 

If he wasn’t afraid of attracting attention, Tommy would quite literally be dancing at this moment. Red mushrooms! Do you know what that means? That means he could make mushroom soup! He gathered all that he could find, before deciding to rest for the cycle. 

He found a small Netherrack hill, and, proudly grinning, hollowed an area out with his _pickaxe_. 

He blocked up the hole, and crafted some bowls, and made mushroom soup in them. He wished he could warm up the soup at all, but he wouldn’t be able to make a furnace here. There was no stone. 

He went to sleep with a full stomach for the first time in what he considered a “week”. 

And he slept well.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i promise you i will try and big brain and make more tags. 
> 
> tommy is trying his best !! :((

Sure, Tommy would have liked to stay in the Crimson Forest where things were safe. Relatively speaking, that is. Things were predictable. 

Tommy spent most of his time collecting as many wood logs and mushrooms as he could. Wood tools weren’t very effective and they’d break quickly. He made sure to keep at least one extra of each tool in his inventory in case something broke and he didn’t have time to craft a replacement. 

He eventually ventured out of the biome a couple of times to mine what gold ore he could find. He had managed to make a golden chestplate and pair of pants, which wasn’t as good as iron, but he would make do. 

The Piglins wouldn’t harm him now. They did walk rather uncomfortably close, and would sniff at him curiously, but they allowed him to walk among them unharmed. 

Hoglins were a different story. Tommy had managed to kill a couple, but they were tricky bastards, and they always ended up getting the best of him. 

He was very excited about their meat, however, even if he couldn’t cook it properly. Sometimes, he’d be able to throw it in a fire he’d found on the ground, quickly fishing it out and eating it hot, ignoring the way the flames had burnt at his fingers. 

He swore it tasted better than any meal he’d had in a long time. 

As he traded gold with the resident Piglin tribe, he became grudgingly respected. He had gained a few blocks of obsidian and gravel from them, but not much else that could be of use. 

He was now in possession of a singular ender pearl, which he tucked into his inventory with great care. He was too weak to fight Endermen for their pearls now, and ultimately, there wasn’t much he would use them for if he wanted to take that risk. He guessed he could use them to teleport away from a mob attacking him, but he had to be careful about fall damage and that was only relevant if there was an available area to teleport to. If he was surrounded by lava or something, they wouldn’t be of much use. 

Pretty soon, he felt like he couldn’t gain anything more from this place. The piglins had moved on, leaving the area feeling… Empty. 

It’s not like he shared a real companionship with them, or that he thought they offered him much protection, but it was still nice to live among other beings that were only slightly hostile. 

Now he was alone again. 

With that odd feeling in his chest, he decided it was time for him to take his leave as well. So he packed his inventory as full as he dared with mushrooms and bowls and crimson logs and tools and gold nuggets. 

Then he began his journey away from the tiny oasis of something like safety. 

He kept his eyes forward, refusing to look back, and his knees bent, ready to run. 

He could not hesitate. There was too much on the line. 

* * *

They had noticed the boy that had wandered into their forest. 

He was a human, they had seen enough of them to know what they looked like. All soft skin and pale teeth and wild hair. 

They whispered about the human in their own way. Humming and growling, they spread the news across the whole forest. They were all filled with a soft of anticipation, almost buzzing. 

From his own hiding space, Ranboo heard their whispers. One or two of them approached him themselves to share the news personally. He thanked them softly. 

He hunkered down to observe the creature. He had never seen one so close before. He had heard their strange noises, piecing together their words from what he had been taught before. But this one didn’t speak. 

He wondered if the human could talk. Or maybe they just didn’t have someone to talk to? Usually humans traveled in packs, or at least that’s what he had been told. Like piglins groups, but smaller. 

He peeked from his hole in this place’s red soil, curiosity overriding the wary part of him. He watched the human walk around slowly, weaving between his kin with a grace that spoke of experience. The human kept their blue eyes locked on the ground, careful not to disturb any of the taller beings around them. 

Ranboo felt his curiosity and respect for the human grow. 

Whether out of fear or their own respect, the human made no aggressive moves toward his kin and avoided the eye contact they knew would make the Enderfolk upset. 

The human began to collect the warped fungus logs and create items. When an End Person curiously picked up the wooden block the human placed, the foreign being merely… exhaled? And placed another. 

Ranboo decided then, as he watched the End Person who had taken the human’s block chatter softly and show it to others, that he would follow this human. 

They were something new to see here. Something interesting. 

* * *

Tommy had noticed shortly after entering a Warped Forest that he was being watched. He just figured it was the Endermen. 

He could feel their inquisitive stares on him as he carefully picked his way through them. He had no desire to cause an Enderman rage. He just.wanted to replenish his stash of wood. And when Tommy had time to pretend he wasn’t lost in the Nether with no idea how to get back to the Overworld, nevermind get back to the Dream SMP lands, he could admit that the blue wood there looked fucking sick. 

He placed a crafting table down and was beginning to craft a new axe to continue chopping the logs with when an Enderman picked it up, snatching it right from under him. He snorted and shook his head. 

From the corner of his eye, he could see the Enderman hold the crafting table out to its friends, seeming like it was showing off. 

He shook his head, allowing himself to smirk a little bit. After the Striders, he was going to declare Endermen his favorite mob. Don’t mess with them and they won’t mess with you. If there was anything Tommy was swiftly learning in the Nether, it was how to mind his business. 

You would not see him running into danger anymore. That wouldn’t end up being a filthy lie. 

Of course not.

* * *

It was a lie. 

It was a lie. 

Everything was a lie. 

God wasn’t real, he was going to die in this fucking dumb, terrible hellhole, and it was going to be painful. 

Whoever had it out for Tommy, he was sorry. He really was. 

Tommy was supposed to be safe in the Warped Forest, wandering around, procrastinating from moving on into unknown territories. 

But he heard this terrible, deep scream. 

He would have ignored it, but the scream didn’t sound like one of the usual mobs. So instead of pretending he didn’t hear it, like a normal person, he had to be an idiot and went to investigate. 

He heard another yell, and for some reason, his heart began to pound. The voice sounded terrified. He picked up his pace, swiftly leaving the Warped Forest, heading back into the Nether Wastes. He didn’t have to go very far before he found the source of the terrified sound. 

There was a something…. A dark, tall figure being chased by a ghast. 

The ghast was firing its fireballs at them, and the figure was diving, sprinting, doing all that they could to get away. They took a hit and screeched, Tommy wincing in sympathy. He knew from experience that those things hurt. Recent experience, in fact. 

When the person was hit with another fireball, Tommy made up his mind. 

“Hey!” He yelled. “Over here!” 

He waved his arms, jumping up and down. “Get over here!” 

The person looked his way, startling Tommy at their appearance. They were clearly some type of hybrid. Half of the person’s body was white and half was black. On their white side, their eye was blood red, and on their black side, their eye was green. There were tears streaming from both eyes and Tommy felt his resolve strengthen. 

“Come on!” 

The hybrid ran to him, desperately, panting from exertion. 

Tommy himself drew one of his pitiful swords. He didn’t have any gold weapons on him, he would be batting with plain, red wood. That was fine by him. He wasn’t going to let this other, unarmed and armorless person die.

He dropped into a crouch and readied himself as the hybrid raced toward him. 

The first fireball, he smacked back, no problem. It hit the ghast who screeched. The second one, he hit, it whizzed past the hybrid who was now only feet away. Tommy managed to hit it, but he couldn’t return it in the mob’s direction. He dodged a shot that was aimed straight at his head, and managed to return another one. 

When Tommy hit the next fireball back, he felt the flames singe his fingers. He managed to return one last hit, but his wooden sword caught fire and he was left holding a flaming stick. 

With a yell, he hurled the rod at the looming creature and watched as it finally died. 

After taking a moment to calm himself, he turned to the hybrid who was standing at the edge of the biome, twiddling their fingers and hunching their shoulders. Tommy could see they were trembling, probably still scared after the chase. 

“Hello!” Tommy’s throat scraped uncomfortably at his greeting. He couldn’t tell if it was because of the yelling he had done or because he wasn’t used to speaking anymore. 

He ignored it and waved. 

The hybrid stared at him unblinkingly. 

“Hello?” Tommy called again. 

He didn’t move closer to the person yet, he didn’t want to spook them. 

“Hello?” They repeated. Almost like… they were mimicking him. 

Tommy controlled his urge to groan. He had hoped, stupidly, that he would meet another person who knew where a portal was and he could leave the Nether. He had found someone, alright. 

“Can I come closer? I won’t hurt you.” 

“Closer?” The hybrid asked. 

Tommy noted that their voice was rather deep. 

“Yes,” they finally answered. 

Tommy strode over to where they stood, making sure not to rush. He didn’t want to frighten them off and they seemed the skittish type. 

They watched his movements with wide, observant eyes. 

“Do you speak English?” 

The hybrid hummed. 

Tommy recognized the sound. Endermen had different colored eyes, which was probably what threw him off. But the person was pretty obviously an Enderman hybrid. They were tall, their fingers ended in claws, and when they spoke, their jaw seemed to open… just a little too wide at times. 

“Some. I learned long time back.” 

“Long ago?” 

“Yes,” the person said solemnly. “I was very small.” 

Tommy cracked a smile at their way of speaking. It was cute, in a way. 

“Do you have a name?” 

“Name?” 

“Something people call you?” 

“Oh! It is Ranboo.” 

“Ranboo?” 

“Yes!” Ranboo said, this time more excitedly. 

“I’m Tommy.” 

“Your name is Tommy?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Hello, Tommy!” 

The blonde boy smiled again at him. “Hello, Ranboo.” 

The conversation kinda died there. Ranboo had no problem looking at him inquisitively. However, Tommy knew better than to stare at the hybrid now that he was sure the person was an Enderman hybrid. 

“Do you live around here, Ranboo?” 

“Yes! With the trees and my kin.” 

His kin? They must mean the other Endermen. 

“I saw you there,” Ranboo said. 

“You saw me there? Oh! In the forest?” 

“Yes! You made something. We liked it.” 

“Really?” Tommy chuckled. “What was it?” 

Ranboo seemed to struggle with their words, shifting nervously. They growled to themselves. 

“Do not know name. My kin took it.” 

Oh, oh this was funny. Tommy had to laugh, a little more fully this time. 

“You saw that?” he asked between his peals of laughter. 

Ranboo watched him, not fully understanding his reaction. 

“Yes,” they replied simply. 

Tommy took a crafting table from his inventory and placed it down. “It was this right?” 

“Yes!” Ranboo’s eyes locked on it, examining it closely. “Name?” 

“It’s called a crafting table.” 

“Crafting table.” 

“Yeah! You can have it, actually. I can make another.” 

“Mine?” 

“Yeah, Ranboo, it’s yours.” 

They picked up the crafting table with their long arms, and did a tiny wiggle when they held it. 

“Good block.” 

You know, maybe Tommy could stick around for a bit. Having someone to talk to, in whatever capacity, wasn’t that bad. 

As he watched Ranboo hum to themselves and dance a bit, placing the crafting table on a different space, he heard them say “Good spot”. 

Yeah, not bad at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay we have met the boy now, how do we feel ? 
> 
> also hi, i feel eh about the title so if anyone has recommendations, i will love you, thank you !!

**Author's Note:**

> i'm specifically sorry that a lot of this is kinda more like "tommy did this, tommy did that". there's not too much "exciting" stuff going on that i felt like i should have narrated. also tommy is trying to kinda keep busy and he doesn't have too much time for sad thoughts and things like that he is just trying not to die, i promise.
> 
> i may revisit this if i really feel like i should change things, but for now, know that chapter two, if you feel like you want it, is being made
> 
> please let me know your thoughts ! i will hoard them... and hold them close to my heart... like a hoarder hoards things close to their hearts, idk.


End file.
